The Days of My Life: An AutobiographyOliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
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The Days of My Life: An Autobiography
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret), 1828-1897
"You must not be angry with me, if I confess that Mr. Osborne was in my
confidence," said Harry, looking into my face, with some alarm, as I
thought. "I was shy of whispering my name of names to any other man; but
I betrayed myself once by saying Hester to your old friend.
Hester--Hester! Homer never knew the sweet sounds of these two
syllables, yet they used to glide in upon his page, and no more
intelligence was left in it. Ah! you do not know what you have to answer
for. And Alice!--Alice loves you too well not to suspect anybody who
approaches you, Hester. She has been very curious about me for a long
time. I think she approves of me now at last."
"It is very strange," I said, with a little pique and offended dignity,
"everybody seems to have been aware except--"
I paused, being so sincere that I could not imply what was not true.
Had not I been aware? or what were all my dreams about for many a day?
"Except the person most concerned? I suppose it is always so," said
Harry. "But do not blame me for that. If my queen was not aware of her
devoted servant's homage--it was no fault of mine. Ah! Hester! so many
jealous glances I have given to this closed door."
For we had reached home; and with a beating heart I opened the door and
entered before him. It was so dark here in the close, that I could only
hear, and could not see the ivy rustling on the wall; and the air was
chill, though it was August; and I trembled with a nervous shiver. He
held me back for a moment as I was about to hasten in. "Hester, give me
your hand, give me your promise," he said, in a low, passionate tone.
"Your father may not be content with me; but you--you will not cast me
off? You will give me time to win him to my side? Say something to me,
Hester--say a kind word to me!"
I could see, even in the darkness, how he changed color; and I felt his
hands tremble. I gave him both mine very quietly; and I said: "He will
consent." Then we parted. I hurried in, and called Alice to show Henry
to the drawing-room where my father was; and, without pausing to meet
her surprised and inquiring look, I ran up-stairs, and shut myself into
my own room. I wanted to be alone. It was not real till I could look at
it by myself, and see what it was.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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